


From Hero to Zero Real Quick

by Weaponized



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Bucky, Bucky isn't scared of no super soldier dick, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Deepthroating, Everyone wants to protect Bucky Barnes, Except Steve who wants to spank him, M/M, Mild Blood, Mild Humiliation, Mild S&M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Shrunkyclunks, Spanking, Strength Kink, Under-negotiated Kink, Wall Sex, actually he's gagging for it, like really really mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24956086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weaponized/pseuds/Weaponized
Summary: Finally, Bucky speaks, and it’s in a different voice than Steve has ever heard from him. “Ooh you want it bad, huh Rogers. You wanna put me in my place, don’t you?”People love to take care of Bucky Barnes, the tortured ex-army sniper with the haunted eyes. And Steve just can't take it anymore.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 73
Kudos: 609





	From Hero to Zero Real Quick

People just loved to take care of Bucky. It was the eyes. His big, silvery eyes that seemed to always be just one ragged breath away from tears. People saw those eyes and they would start falling over themselves to give that boy what he wanted.

Steve hated it. He hated it more than words could describe. He hated it so much that sometimes, when people were speaking to Bucky in their softest, kindest voices and offering their bare hearts for him, Steve would start hearing the rush of blood in his ears and feel his fists start clenching repeatedly, like his hands were aching to squeeze whatever it was, the thing that made James Buchanan Barnes irresistible, right out of that long-limbed, sculpted body.

This wasn’t a very Steve Rogers reaction. Steve Rogers wasn’t known for his violent thoughts. Steve Rogers was a fair-minded man with strong, wholesome morals. He was _Captain America_. He was not the type of man to fantasize the things his mind was manufacturing at the moment (Bucky in the gym, panting, mortified, begging). He was not the type of man who identified something that made him angry and then deliberately placed himself in the way of that frustration (he had found the perfect location to stand where he could clearly hear Bucky being talked at softly by someone in the meeting room after a mission while remaining out of sight). He was not.

It wasn’t even that Bucky was weak. Bucky was strong, quick, always made good calls in a fight, always had the back of whoever he was fighting beside. He was a great member of the team. But when they were back at HQ - training, debriefing or planning ops - it was like a day couldn’t go by without Bucky being surrounded by a warm bubble of good vibes, having a heart-to-heart chat with colleagues or causing widespread panic by getting a small injury in the gym.

The instantaneous urge to protect Bucky Barnes seemed to be inescapable to anyone who came into contact with him. People looked into those big, tortured grey eyes and from that moment on, they were part of the Barnes Protection Force.

As far as Steve could tell, after flicking through his fat personnel file, other than being gifted at operating undercover and shooting things from really far away, Bucky Barnes was nothing out of the ordinary. But when Steve was subjected full-force to that keen, slightly empty gaze he felt the urge to cause some serious harm. Not the same response other people seemed to have, but still a very strong reaction.

After months of telling himself he wouldn’t act on the cacophony of angry thoughts that repeatedly filled his head each and every time he was in the same room as his team’s sniper, Captain America fails, spectacularly, to keep his cool.

“You endangered us all out there, Barnes and you know it. What made you think abandoning your position without even one word on coms or any kind of signal would be acceptable in the middle of an operation? You revealed your own position, and you revealed every other agent in the field.”

The room is quiet. Steve Rogers hasn’t yelled so much in a debrief since Tony Stark was last in residence.

“Steve,” starts Sam, “his coms were compromised, he couldn’t call it in. And his position was right in sight from the air, I know because I was covering him up there.”

“Sergeant Barnes can speak for himself, thanks, Sam.”

Cool. Lost. Everyone is staring at him now. Except for the one person he’s desperately trying not to look at – Bucky Barnes, who is looking at the table.

“It’s OK Sam,” Bucky says softly, raising one hand placatingly, “I’m really sorry to everyone on the team today. I didn’t hold my position and I didn’t have the high ground or the right cover when it was needed. I’m sorry.” His apologies sound genuine and his expression is soulful.

Sam is snorting, “Yo, Bucky, you don’t have to apologise – how were any of us supposed to know there would be a pinch bomb hidden in a fake tree? Steve, what the hell, dude?”

Natasha sighs, “It was in a tree, and he spotted it before any of the rest of us. If he hadn’t moved when he did, he’d be dead and we’d all have missed it, Steve.”

This should be the moment Steve calms down, lets things settle, and moves on with the debriefing, but now that he’s started, he can’t seem to stop. Bucky is still gazing at the table and the rest of the room is still refusing to let Bucky motherfucking Barnes take a single hit.

“This is my debrief and I’m not going to stop pointing out things that have happened during missions, even if the guy responsible for fucking up is your favourite pet, Sam. Natasha. Barnes, seeing as no one in this room seems willing or able to sit still and let us have an adult conversation, I want to see you after the debrief. You can tell me then what exactly possessed you to risk eight people’s lives.” Oh God, he had completely lost his head.

Sam was gaping at him and Natasha’s face was blank like she had forgotten to contrive an expression for once. Other team members looked shocked or guilty. But Bucky was finally looking at him, and there was something in his look that said he was less cowed and more exhilarated at hearing Steve’s words.

Steve hurried to finish the rest of the briefing and move everyone along from the fact he was apparently losing his goddamn mind. He really didn’t need Natasha or Sam on his back about this because either of those two could stir up any amount of difficult questions between them and if they combined forces, he’d be in big trouble. He wrapped in as few minutes as he could and sent everyone home, even leaving the room himself at Sam’s side, engaging him as well as possible in conversation about training exercises in the hope of getting everyone’s minds off what a weird meeting it had been.

Once the corridor was empty, Steve turned back towards the doorway of the meeting room.

Bucky was still sitting in the chair he had occupied for the past hour. He was leaning back, head resting on the chair back as he watched Steve from lidded eyes. “Captain Rogers.”

“Barnes. Thanks for staying back.” Somehow even though he always called him Bucky in his head, he couldn’t wrap his tongue around it.

“Oh, it’s no problem. Actually, I’m looking forward to it.”

“Looking forward to what?”

The chair clunked as Bucky suddenly shifted his weight forward and slid his elbows onto the table, resting his chin on his palms, “I’m looking forward to you giving me a telling off.”

“This isn’t a game, Barnes. What, you think your actions today are gonna get you a playful smack on the wrist from Captain America, then you can just carry on?”

A knowing grin is hinting at the corners of Bucky’s mouth as he continues looking calmly up at his team leader, who is pacing restlessly and constantly forgetting what the fuck he’s trying to say. Finally, Bucky speaks, and it’s in a different voice than Steve has ever heard from him. “Ooh you want it _bad_ , huh Rogers. You wanna put me in my place, don’t you?”

Steve stops and it’s his turn to ogle unattractively. “What?”

“This how you speak to all your team members when they fuck up a little on mission, is it? You get all growly and,” Bucky takes a long breath in through his nose, sniffing with a flick of his head, “feral on them too, huh?”

Steve has no idea what he’s angry about, only that he’s spitting with it. “No, I don’t Barnes, because somehow everyone except you is capable.”

Bucky’s eyes are blazing, lit in a colour Steve has never seen them. He wants to snuff them out, those eyes. Bucky’s suddenly standing, leaning as far over the table towards Steve as he can. “I’m so incompetent, huh. I’m a liability.”

“Don’t talk back to me,” Steve hisses before he knows what he’s saying. And Jesus Christ, that was deeply inappropriate, but Bucky is actually climbing onto the conference table now, sliding closer inch by inch. In moments, he’s just inches away, and his infuriating expression is all Steve can see.

“Whatcha gonna do about it?” he whispers. “Or do I get to make some suggestions?”

“What the fuck, Barnes.”

“You musta went from zero to hero real quick and no one stopped to let you work out that hidden douchebag who’s been raring to go in there. You’ve probably been gagging for this since you jacked off for the first time, huh,” murmurs Bucky, leaning even closer as he talks, legs sliding off the edge of the table, spreading suspiciously wide to be anything other than performative. “Tiny little Steve Rogers, skinny kid with a big hard chip on his shoulder. You aren’t such a good boy, really, are you? Well, lucky for you, I’ve got just the thing for that.”

Steve raised an eyebrow incredulously. Was this dirty talk, or was he being fucked with? But then Bucky is hooking a couple of fingers into his t-shirt and pulling him closer. Obviously, with Bucky’s normal, human-male strength, Steve doesn’t have to move an inch if he doesn’t choose to, and yet he finds himself snugly situated between lean thighs before he even notices that Bucky’s other hand has somehow found its way to his crotch and long fingers are cupping him gently through fabric. Even more shockingly, he finds having Bucky’s hands on him doesn’t bother him at all, in fact his body is reacting in a way that can only be described as ‘delighted’.

“Everyone loves to be so soft and gentle with poor little Buck, he’s so tortured,” Bucky’s voice does the little crack that sends Steve’s mind into a cyclone of rage, even while his dick is being fondled by a _teammate_. “But what if sweet, tortured Bucky actually just wants to be tortured some more?”

“What?” Steve thinks his subconscious has taken full control, because before his brain has even processed the first part of what the man currently getting all up in his personal space has said, the mindlessly turned on part of him has already decided that Bucky doesn’t need jurisdiction over his own limbs anymore and Steve is going to grab his wrists and hold them fast against the table, tipping Bucky back a little and feeling the warmth of those thighs as they fasten snuggly around his hips.

Bucky’s eyes are downcast as he speaks. “You want to punish me, right? Just because you _can_.”

Steve says nothing. Punishing is exactly what he’s been daydreaming about, he realises.

“Well I want to be punished.”

The daydreams intensify in Steve’s memory, and suddenly leave his brain in a sweltering rush, because this isn’t one of his unwholesome fantasies anymore. Bucky just breathed those words directly into his ear. _I want to be punished_.

His grip on Bucky’s wrists is vice-like, and he briefly worries about causing some permanent damage with his super-soldier strength before his primal desire to cause Bucky regret for ever sitting in this room with him alone wins out. He shoves his hands across the table top, slamming Bucky backwards onto the hard wood. His head follows with a soft thunk and a huff of breath, like a laugh, but heavier.

“You know what you’re asking for?” Steve asks, determined to keep up. He can’t bear to admit that Buck has him rattled.

“I’m fairly confident you can give me what I want,” is the reply, husky.

“Alright. My place. Nine PM. Don’t be late.” And it takes everything Steve has in him to peel back from the table and walk out of there. The thighs release from his hips and he aches with want for them. He’s horrified and exhilarated, blinded as he walks through the corridors of HQ, trying to get to the locker room, to his bike, to his house so he can continue trying to process the fact that he just assaulted a co-worker. Or a co-worker assaulted him? He’s not sure, but he is sure that whatever crime he committed, he’s determined to keep committing it until Bucky Barnes is naked and screaming.

★

His phone buzzed on the kitchen table three hours later. Steve snatched it up to look at the message on the screen through the thick haze that had been brewing in his mind as he sat motionless on the sofa waiting for time to crawl by on the clock.

 **Barnes:** What’s up danger. I’ll be there in five. Hope you’re not planning to yell at me any more before at least getting your dick out.

If the message was meant to be provocative, it certainly made him livid with anger that had been flagging the longer he sat alone on the sofa.

When the bell rang, he swung the door open to find a smirking Bucky on the other side, and he realised he’d never seen such a deviant expression on that sweet, open face before.

“Oh good,” the smirk widens, “you’re ready.”

Steve didn’t bother embarrassing himself by shouting with the front door open and chose instead to grab Bucky by the arm and pull him inside. The people in the neighbouring apartments didn’t need to hear Captain America use his do-better voice during sex, ever. The silence following the slam of the door was somehow satisfying, like a soothing balm on the angry confusion that had been sitting in Steve’s chest like a hot potato since that morning when he had watched Bucky leap from rooftop to rooftop, sprinting for cover, rifle in one hand, braced to his shoulder as he tried desperately to gain the high ground over his pursuers. The look on his face as he ran was branded into Steve’s memory. He had been laughing.

“Sit down.” He pointed Bucky to the sofa, keeping a reasonable distance between them.

Bucky rolled his eyes but sat anyway.

“Take your clothes off.”

The eye rolling very quickly stopped and Bucky was gazing at him intently now, very still.

“You heard what I said.” Steve settled himself against the wall opposite the sofa. Most people would probably have a TV there, but Steve didn’t have one, preferring not to take that somersault into the 21st century quite yet. Now he was intensely glad he had this position free to tower over the boy currently sprawled beneath him.

Bucky was smiling just a little bit. It was infuriating.

“You want a show, or you just wanna get down to business?”

Steve didn’t bother answering, just folded his arms. It was too early to let his anger out, he knew that much, even if every word coming out of that mouth seemed to be chosen specifically to wind him up. Before Bucky arrived he had laid out a plan in his head with what to say and how to react. If Bucky wanted Steve to fuck him hard, Steve would do it because that’s exactly what he wanted to do.

Slowly, long, supple fingers moved to the hem of the white t-shirt Bucky wore, watched raptly by all the eyes in the room. The shirt was slowly pulled upwards, rolling up over Bucky’s elbow before flicking suddenly through the air and disappearing somewhere behind the sofa. Dark curls flopped into Bucky’s eyes as he returned them to Steve, leaning back on the cushions. “Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?” he asked.

Steve took his time to take in the long, sleek lines of the naked torso reclining so artfully in the middle of the room. “No. Maybe later.” His voice sounded awkward to his own ears, but Bucky seemed to lap it up, his eyes darkening.

Fingers strayed to a thick, silver belt buckle next, “Am I the only one getting naked?” Bucky asked, trying hard to sound plaintive and pathetic.

Steve watched him writhe performatively on the cushions for a moment, “I think you’re enjoying yourself quite enough already, Barnes.”

Bucky’s infuriatingly large and desperate eyes were translucent with desire, a pink tinge rising in his cheeks as he wriggled out of his jeans, pulling at them without taking his eyes away from Steve, as if he was a drowning man with his eyes fixed on the light of the sun. “You really gonna gimme what I want, Cap?”

“What exactly is it that you want, Barnes?” Steve asked, feeling his voice take on a strange quality, like his throat has closed up. Bucky was inching black denim down his hips, arching distractingly, and Steve couldn’t have looked away if Jesus himself appeared from the Heavens and begged him on bended knee – he had to watch Bucky Barnes pull that tight fabric down his long legs. His skin was planes of smooth honey, with sparse hairs dusting his lower stomach down to darker stubble. His cock was not disinterested in their conversation at all, flushed and semi-hard.

Jeans and belt thudded to the floor, socks following, there was no underwear in sight.

Steve ran a restless hand through his hair before he remembered he had sworn to himself to show nothing. Bucky’s body made his mouth dry however, and nothing could hide the interest showing itself in the front of his pants anyway.

Bucky stretched out and grinned, unselfconsciously palming his dick. “OK, I’m ready for you now,” he said.

And that was it. The frustration crashed down on Steve and before he even had time to think ‘fuck it’ he was picking up all those long limbs and pushing Bucky into the wall, toes scrabbling on the floor, face finally splitting into wide-eyed surprise. Steve’s hands were wrapped around sharp hip bones snug amongst well-worked muscles, and he squeezed hard. Bucky put his arms around Steve’s shoulders in self-preservation at first, but within moments, he was melting into the wall with a blissful hum, palms flattening on Steve’s back.

“You’re insufferable,” Steve growled.

“Yeah?” Bucky writhed against him, his thighs scrubbing against the rough denim of Steve’s pants.

“The way everyone treats you–” Steve cut himself off, instead lowering his head to set his teeth to a mouthful of Bucky’s neck. He didn’t want to spill all his anger out in words, that would just make him sound like a jealous and bitter monster.

But Bucky wouldn’t let it rest even as he arched his back, throwing his head back to invite Steve to put more throat between his teeth. “The way everyone treats me like what?”

“Treats you like you’re the most precious thing that ever lived,” Steve grunted, hips pinning hips. His hands started to roam, as he discovered that squeezing bruises into Bucky’s waist and ass was extremely gratifying. He’d never treated anyone like this outside of a real fight in his life, never mind during sex. Forcefully taking what he wanted had never crossed his mind until Bucky Barnes and it was opening a strange hollow in his chest. So what that Bucky clearly wanted it, something inside Steve watched himself, horrified.

But Bucky was gasping loudly as Steve’s fingers made a particularly strong imprint on his thighs, and the slight ring of a moan behind it went straight to Steve’s dick.

“And what do you wanna treat me like, Cap?” Bucky asked softly, pleadingly. He was _pleading_.

Steve pulled his head back far enough to look directly into Bucky’s face. “I want to watch you cry, knowing that no one is going to say a fucking word, no one is going to defend you and no one is going to stop me doing it again and again. And again.”

The words were out before he knew he’d even started speaking. And Bucky was staring at him like he was speaking holy words, enraptured. “Yes,” he whispered.

Steve paused, swallowing thickly. “Is that OK?” It felt abrupt, but he had to ask.

Large, grey eyes blinked at him, and Bucky’s voice was strangled as he said, “Cap, you’re talking some big talk here. And I _really_ need you to start walking this walk soon.”

Bucky’s lips were parted and wet, and Steve lent forward and took them into his mouth, letting his teeth scrape at them and pushing until he felt the back of Bucky’s head hit the wall. His mouth was strangely cool and tasted sweet.

Fingers dug through his beard and hair as Bucky pressed into the kiss, not backing down even as Steve had him pinned two inches off the floorboards. A tentative tongue dipped against Steve’s mouth and he nipped at it, feeling the now-familiar urge to let his anger take control of every movement, let his teeth dig in hard enough to cause damage. For the first time, Steve willingly gave in to the urge.

Bucky made a soft sound of pain into the kiss just as Steve felt the delicate flesh between his teeth burst. When they drew apart, Bucky’s mouth was red with his own blood, and he was smiling. “Mm,” he licked his lips, “I guess I really was a bad boy.”

“Bad doesn’t really describe it,” Steve fastened one hand around Bucky’s jaw, using his thumb to dip past the bloody lower lip and inspect the work his teeth had done. “But I’d say you’ve been a bit of a disappointment.”

It was the right thing to say. Bucky’s body vibrated against him, a flush rising up his neck, his cock hard, pressed into Steve’s hip where he’d started shifting in gentle thrusting movements, trying to grind his arousal out as Steve pinned his head and neck to the wall.

Slowly, Steve lowered the squirming body to the floor, stepping back as soon as he felt Bucky take his own weight. He sagged a little, whining, his arms wrenched from where they had been clinging around Steve’s head. He made a muted sound of loss, one hand falling straight to his dick and wrapping around the shaft.

“Bend over the back of the sofa.” Steve pointed.

Bucky immediately stumbled to drape himself over the furniture where directed, wiggling his ass invitingly. “Lube’s in the pocket of my jeans, just in case you need it,” he said quickly. “You will need it. Please need it.”

Steve made a subtle detour to the pants abandoned on the floor and rummaged in the pocket until he found the lube in question. “No condom?”

“Sorry, my local drug store doesn’t stock super soldier condoms, you’ll just have to raw me.”

“Barnes,” Steve started, but gave up quickly, knowing by this point that every word out that filthy mouth was only going to make him angrier and also directly reroute that anger to his dick. He might as well just get to the part where he gave Bucky what he’s been begging for all night and put it in him. After all, Bucky was right in that there was not much by the way of STDs that could hold him up.

Steve situated himself at the back of long, lean thighs and placed his hand over one cheek of the ass spread out so invitingly before him. “You’re a disgrace,” he muttered, rubbing his thumb over the flesh, before drawing his hand away and letting it smack back down.

Bucky’s response was a loud moan of happiness, but it was Steve’s own response that surprised him more. The sound and sensation of flesh slapping into his palm was… like settling a long itch under his skin. Like righting a wrong. He lifted his palm again and this time laid a backhand across Bucky’s other cheek, watching the skin burn red and shiver. Bucky groaned and his fingers gripped the cushions. “Harder,” he whispered.

And Steve obliged, hand slapping back onto the flesh with force enough to shake the frame of his sofa.

“Yes,” panted Bucky, “Yes, yes. You’re so disappointed in me, I can’t stand it.” He sounded utterly delighted.

Leaving his right hand kneading into the flesh of Bucky’s ass, Steve lifted his left to let that hand slam down onto the reddened flesh, too. The sofa actually shifted a little on the floor this time.

“Ahh,” Bucky made an aborted sound of pain, then followed it up with a charged moan of pleasure.

“Are you making a mess on my sofa, Barnes?” Steve asked in as stern a voice as he could muster, a little dazed from the ambrosial sensation of Bucky’s flesh under his palms. He could feel the hardness of his own cock where it was pressed lightly to the back of a warm thigh.

Bucky squirmed, and Steve could hear and feel the hitch in his breath, see the flush that was rising in his one visible cheekbone, face turned to half glance back over his shoulder.

Steve grabbed him by the hips and pulled Bucky back from the sofa, arms coming around his chest to hold him fast. On the back of the sofa was a damp patch right where Bucky had been bent over it, and as Steve looked down the long planes of torso, he found Bucky’s cock hard, jutting out from his body, pre-come drooling from the head.

“Oops,” Bucky breathed, and Steve heard the smirk in that voice.

He spun the body in his arms around and tapped one shoulder. A Captain America tap was an unstoppable force for Bucky’s knees, which slammed into the wooden flooring.

“I was going to fuck you right there, but seeing as you can’t keep your filth off my furniture, I guess I’ll just have to find out how good you are at licking things to find out if you’ll be able to clean it up.” The words were coming from some untapped place in Steve’s brain. The same place that was hollering it’s approval of Bucky’s skin stained red under Steve’s palms. The same part that was egging him on to let his anger out directly at the infuriating man kneeling before him.

Kneeling and gazing upwards with his mouth slack, still a little stained by the blood and unmistakably swollen from Steve’s vicious bite earlier, Bucky’s eyes were wet with the tears that must have filled them while Steve was hammering his ass with stinging blows. Nimble fingers were soon tugging at Steve’s fly, though, sliding denim and the underwear beneath down just far enough to free his aching cock straight onto Bucky’s waiting tongue.

He paused there for a moment to lick kittenishly at the head, then took Steve dick in his hand and lifted his face, “I like it, Rogers. This is some good quality dick. You’re gonna fuck my throat, right? None of that romantic shit.”

Steve snarled and fastened one hand around Bucky’s jaw, rooting the other deep into brown curls and pulling at his head until he had no choice but to open wide and take that super soldier cock deep. His tongue lolled, throat twitching and managing one feeble, choking cough before Steve was pulling back a little again. Bucky’s hands gripped Steve’s thighs, holding on for dear life as drool escaped the corner of his mouth. His mouth must have flooded with saliva when he choked.

The deeply satisfying sensation continued to climb Steve’s insides as he pushed and pulled Bucky’s head, hot mouth enveloping him again and again. With his hands tight around each side of a brown head, he could barely feel the weight of moving Bucky back and forth, only the wet, pleasing sensation of a reluctant throat opening around his dick and the vibrations of all the helpless moaning Bucky seemed to be doing. A slick, wet tongue cupped the underside of his cock and it was obvious that if Steve wasn’t so busy controlling every movement of the head in his hands, Bucky would be enthusiastically attempting to swallow him anyway.

Steve realised through the blissful suction that Bucky had stopped gripping the back of his thighs and one of his hands was wrapped around his own cock. “Stop touching yourself,” he commanded, surprised yet again by the rough, deep sound of his own voice. 

Bucky’s fingers stopped moving, but his hand remained on his dick as he peeked up through his lashes.

Steve pushed his hands through thick hair, feeling the pull against his knuckles and bringing his hands to the back of Bucky’s head. A quick pull, and he was holding fast, keeping his cock deep in Bucky’s mouth, deep enough to feel the throat spasms and know he’s cut off any breath he might have struggled to take. Fingers scrabbled weakly against the back of his leg and he felt, rather than heard the resigned gurgle Bucky made.

After a long moment, Steve released his hands and Bucky’s mouth slid off him with a raw gasp. He looked down. Bucky’s neck and cheeks were bright red, wet with tears, mouth gaping and red as he struggled to hold himself up on shaking arms. His hair stood on end, a few locks plastered to his cheek where sweat and tears had clumped them together.

He looked better than Steve had ever seen him. This Bucky didn’t make him angry. This Bucky made him feel good.

Steve picked him up by one arm, but when Bucky merely mewled pathetically and failed to find his feet, he just dragged him towards the bedroom by the wrist instead.

“Fuck. Fuck.” Bucky struggled against his grip weakly, swearing and coughing. Steve barely felt the tussle in his arm, but watching Bucky’s knees drag on the floor was definitely keeping his dick happy where he’d temporarily stuffed it back into his underwear.

When they got to the bed, he threw Bucky on it, enjoying the litany of new curses and groans that he landed with. “Still with me?” Steve asked, pulling the lube from his pocket and tossing it on the bed.

Bucky rolled over, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, then his cheek, as if to try and hide the fact he’d been choking on cock until his eyes were streaming. He nodded, not quite managing a smile. Steve’s inner beast purred and the rest of him gave up feeling horrified about it, completely distracted by the surge of heat through his dick when he noticed that fresh blood was slowly creeping through the cracks in Bucky’s lip. Having Steve’s cock shoved down his throat has clearly done nothing to help stop the bleeding.

As Steve lowered himself onto the bed, Bucky spread his legs and propped himself on his elbows, still impatient but much quieter than he’d been so far. Steve ran a hand up one long leg until he was leaning over, his bulk making the body beneath him seem diminished. Now that the bruises from his thumbs were clearly visible on Bucky’s jaw and his eyes were wide with anticipation and a hint of apprehension, for the first time, Steve could say he was looking at Bucky Barnes and seeing someone that needed to be protected and looked after. It was gratifying, and it made him want to cause some more bruises on the vast expanses of skin laid out beneath him.

Steve leant down to kiss the blood from that swollen lower lip, settling his hands at the back of Bucky’s knees and pushing them up and apart. “You all out of words, Barnes?” He moved one hand to Bucky’s ankle, pressing it hard into the back of one soft, pillowy thigh and letting his considerable weight bear down until he could hiss in Bucky’s ear, “Good, because I don’t feel like hearing your shit while I fuck you.”

Bucky looked like he was desperate to say something the moment Steve leaned back, but rather than give him the opportunity, Steve simply ripped open the lube, poured it onto one hand then slapped the other right over Bucky’s mouth. “That wasn’t an invitation to talk.”

Steve was conspicuously still dressed as he smeared lube roughly up the cleft of Bucky’s ass, keeping knees spread wide with one elbow and watching intently as his fingers rubbed hard at the ring of muscle exposed there.

Bucky was whining against his palm before he got even the first finger to the first knuckle, writhing hard enough to dislodge his mouth from Steve’s hand as one finger pushed deep without much preamble, “Jesus Christ–”

“Struggling already, Barnes? Maybe you should have thought about what you were asking for before you asked for it.” Steve returned his hand to Bucky’s mouth, “If you really wanted me to stop, you wouldn’t be moaning like that, I guess.”

Bucky’s response was muffled beneath Steve’s fingers, but it sounded something like ‘Fuck you, Rogers’ followed by a drawn-out groan as Steve pressed his thumb to the soft flesh between balls and asshole.

The lube made a sticky, squelching sound in the quiet room when Steve pulled his finger all the way back out. He didn’t need to look at Bucky’s face to know he’s bright red – he could feel the heat under his fingers radiating from those cheeks, just like it was warming his ass cheeks where Steve spanked him raw. Gathering up some of the dripping liquid, ignoring where it was soaking into his jeans and generally making a mess, he pinched two fingers together and gently pressed them inside Bucky’s rim, twisting slowly.

Bucky’s breathing started becoming more and more laboured through his nose and when Steve curled his fingers up, his eyes fluttered closed.

“You like that?” Steve asked, low and soft.

Bucky nodded his head.

“You want more?”

Bucky nodded harder, a muffled, “Mmhmm,” fighting past Steve’s hand.

“OK.”

Thrusting his fingers in and out a couple of times, Steve flipped his wrist to stroke upwards, pressing his thumb tight to Bucky’s balls as he did, probing for a reaction. He knew he had one when Bucky’s elbows collapsed and he sprawled back on the bed, freeing his mouth from Steve’s palm long enough to let out a string of foul curses concluding in a soft and heartfelt, “ _Yes_.”

Once Bucky wasn’t bothering to try and take any of his own weight anymore, Steve rolled his hips forward, pushing his weight down harder and finding the angle that let him watch his three fingers disappear into Bucky’s hole while getting his mouth on the soft skin of one calf muscle to bite it.

After a couple of minutes, Bucky reminded Steve that he’s not being gagged any longer by shooting his mouth. “Ugh. Rogers. That’s enough, fuck me already.”

Steve spared a glance for Bucky’s face as he pulled his fingers free, watching the regret war with anticipation as the uncomfortable, bare feeling right after getting fucked on three fingers set in. Then he tore his gaze away again to push his clothes out the way.

“Roll over,” Steve commanded.

Bucky lifted his head and gave him what could only be described as a glare, shot through a mass of damp hair and a haze of bruised pride. “Am I letting a super soldier fuck me for no reason?” he drawled after a long pause.

That little shit. Steve sighed and got hold of Bucky’s waist. Bracing one knee on the bed, he executed a perfect wrestling slam, ending with one arm hooked beneath a knee and his face pressed tight to Bucky’s ear. “You’re lucky we’re on the bed already because I would have loved to do that straight onto the floor,” he hissed.

Bucky only resumed his moaning and pushed his ass back into Steve’s crotch, “You can slam me anywhere, anytime, Cap. I’m waiting.”

Steve growled, getting his dick in hand. He was so close to being able to push in. Releasing his iron grip on Bucky’s thigh he felt around for the sachet of lube again and emptied it onto his dick.

“Still waiting,” was mumbled into the duvet.

One hand smashed down on the nape of Bucky’s neck and finally Steve was pushing in, pants still clinging to his hips, leaning back just enough to watch his cock disappear into the tight, warm grip of Bucky’s ass. He could feel the body beneath his hands vibrating, pinned to the bed. Bucky’s fingers gripped at the sheets as he tried to brace himself, unable to get to all fours with Steve’s weight on his back, prevented from pushing backwards or moving at all by the grip on the scruff of his neck.

After admiring the view for a few moments, Steve pulled back slowly, releasing Bucky’s neck and pulling his hands back to rest them on well-bruised hip bones. He gave them a strong tug to pull Bucky back onto his dick and was rewarded with an indecent sounding moan into the bedclothes.

“I want to hear you,” Steve dipped down and scooped one arm around a well-muscled chest, grabbing on tight to heft Bucky’s weight back and up into his lap, feeling his cock push deeper inside.

“Oh fuck, Cap, that’s hot,” Bucky groaned, ragged, his head lolling back onto Steve’s shoulder. “Ugh, fuck me.”

“Yeah?” grunted Steve, shoving Bucky’s slack arms out the way to get his hands tight under his ribcage and _lift_ him on Steve’s cock before dropping him back down. “Super soldier dick doing it for you now?”

“Ahh! Yes!” Bucky moaned, his hands wrapping around his own cock, thumbs squeezing the head. And Steve could see it all perfectly. He could watch the heaving breaths as he continued to lift Bucky’s weight and fuck up into him, and the way Bucky slid one hand to squeeze the base of his dick while flicking his fist around the head. It was a great view, all accompanied by the sweet sound of Bucky losing himself to a good dicking.

However great the sight of long supple fingers flicking repeatedly over Bucky’s flushed, wet dick was, though, soon enough Steve decided Bucky had spent enough time touching himself – this was a punishment after all. Releasing his grip on Bucky’s ribcage, Steve pushed him forward until he was forced to brace his arms on the bed or fall face-first back into the sheets.

“What–,” Bucky whined, breathless and frustrated, no doubt aching to wrap his fingers back around himself. “What the fuck, Cap.”

Steve shoved one knee inside Bucky’s, spreading long legs wider and sliding his hands down to cover Bucky’s on the bed. “If you can bitch, I’m not fucking you hard enough.”

Every thrust shook the bed frame after that, the creak of wood accompanied by Bucky’s soft cursing and throaty moans, and Steve’s ragged breaths into sweaty brown curls. Over top of it all was the increasingly loud sound of Steve’s hips slamming into the abused flesh of Bucky’s ass.

Feeling his climax start to crest deep in his stomach, Steve released Bucky’s arms, raising himself up enough to wrap one hand around Bucky’s cock and fasten the other at the scruff of his neck once more. He could feel the muscles beneath his grip flutter as Bucky stopped bothering to hold his own head up, letting Steve’s tight fist on his hair and neck keep him there.

“I’m gonna come,” Bucky whispered, hoarse and miserable and the pathetic hiss was almost enough to send everything over the edge right then.

Instead, Steve squeezed his palm around the cock in it and flicked his thumb over the head, “Who said you get to come?”

“Please. Please, Cap. Fuck.” The soft pleads fell reluctantly from Bucky’s lips, soaked and desperate.

Steve hummed softly, teasing his fingers over flesh and squeezing again. He placed his teeth on the shell of Bucky’s ear, breathing in the scent of his hair and tasting the tang of his sweat. After a long, torturous pause during which his hips continued to move in sharp thrusts, he loosened his grip on Bucky’s cock. “You may come.”

Not a moment later, Steve’s hips slammed forward and Bucky’s body jerked in his grip. “ _Steve_ ,” he gasped at the very last second, hot come already coating the bedclothes and Steve’s fist.

It was only after Steve was done selfishly slamming into the rippling heat of Bucky’s ass to ride out his own orgasm that he realised that was the first time he’d ever heard Bucky call him by his first name. And with that he’s slumping and taking Bucky down with him into the messy sheets with a groan. 

There was a long pause during which Steve tried not to move much while also not crushing the body trapped beneath him. He was so busy trying to remember how much force he’d used while wildly slapping Bucky around and holding him up by the neck, that he barely noticed when long fingers twined into his on the bed. And when he did, he didn't know what to make of it.

“Bar– Bucky?”

“Yeah?” the voice was muffled.

Steve finally heaved his weight up a little and regretfully pulled out. Bucky tensed beneath him but slowly rolled over. “What is it?” he asked again, voice sounding worlds away from the broken words whispered just a minute before.

Steve felt himself blushing and willed it off his cheeks immediately. “You called me Steve.”

“Took all that super soldier dick but you finally got me to slip up,” Bucky smirked, looking up at him from beneath a soft post-fuck expression. “I can feel that you’re still hard, you don’t gotta hide it from me,” he added, reaching his arm over to pull Steve back close from where he had moved away.

Steve caught sight of Bucky’s wrist where he had held it down, the deep red and purple of bruises already forming. “Jesus fuck, I’m sorry,” he took the hand and held it gently.

Bucky merely laughed, “I was begging you for it. I doubt I’ll be able to walk straight tomorrow, and my hips may be broken, but no one can say I didn’t ask for it.”

“I almost strangled you,” Steve said, already feeling guilt crowding into his head, feeling everything start to tense up in horror. “I don’t know what made me think it was OK to do that…”

“Hey. Hey, Rogers,” Bucky sat up then, tossing his curls back and sliding one (heavily bruised with distinctly finger-shaped marks) thigh over Steve’s stomach and settling there. “If you just stop blushing for a second, I can tell you about how much I wanted it.”

Steve couldn’t pull his eyes away from the raw looking marks on Bucky’s neck and collar bones, marks he knew very well were made by his teeth. “I might have hurt you really badly without even realising,” Steve mumbled.

It’s Bucky’s turn to fight a flush from his face and a wry sort of smile lifted his lips, “I don’t know about that, Cap. I’m what you might call a big old pain slut, and I’m plenty tough enough to handle your big muscles”

“A pain slut?” It sounded almost unbearably crass to Steve’s mind.

“Yeah,” Bucky shrugged and reached out one hand to toy with Steve’s hair where it’s fallen across his forehead. “I like pain. That’s why I asked you to torture me. And why I made a mess of your sofa when you hit me. And why I liked it when you tried to put me through a wall. And–” he stops suddenly and shifts his hips back in a deliberate way. “You like hearing about how much I like it, huh?”

Steve’s dick is, indeed, getting harder as Bucky’s gentle weight on his midsection warmed him, each one of his brand-new kinks aired out in that rough voice.

Bucky didn’t wait for him to try and articulate a reply before he swooped down to plaster his chest against Steve’s and lay his lips in a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “You’re just a big, bad, sadistic fuck. You just wanna watch me get hurt, huh.”

Steve had to fight the groan aching to release from deep in his chest.

“That’s perfect,” Bucky’s words are whispered directly against his mouth. “Now fuck me again.”

**Author's Note:**

> I took a casual eight year hiatus from writing fanfiction. Then I wrote these 7,000 words of very contrived porn.
> 
> Come hang out with me on Twitter [@im_weapon](https://twitter.com/im_weapon)


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